


Corset Connections

by Genie60



Series: Poldark Series 5-One Last Time [3]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015), Poldark - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Kitchen Tables, Love, Marriage, Poldark AU, Tricorns, What we wish we saw, corsets, it's all their fault, s5, what if
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-17
Updated: 2019-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-06 02:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20283667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genie60/pseuds/Genie60
Summary: A missing corset, a mangled hat and a kitchen table......what else could it be?





	Corset Connections

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quickie--so to speak. I own nothing except this warped idea. Debbie and Winston get all the credit for the characters, costumes and scenario. Aidan and Eleanor are to blame for the visual.
> 
> Once again written on the sly at work so any errors or omissions are mine.

Demelza Poldark entered her kitchen with a basket of apples in her arms. She was intent on using the last of the crop to make a pie for Ross. As she approached the table she saw her husband’s hat lying in the middle of a flour covered surface. Apparently Prudie didn’t feel it necessary to wipe down the newly refurbished table. Ross had decided after all these years their favorite piece of furniture could use a polish. Now that they were decently solvent, he had her brothers smooth out the nicks and cracks from a lifetime or more of use. Demelza loved the gesture but part of her missed the old, worn out wood because it carried so many memories. 

But they were embarking on a new chapter of their lives with the turn of the century. A recommitment to their marriage and each other had reawakened the love they had found a decade before which manifested itself in a very happy home. Demelza placed the basket at the edge of the table before picking up a dishrag to clean up the remnants of her pastry making. She stretched across it, reaching for a wayward pile of dust grateful that she had decided to go without a corset while she worked around the house. Granted these newer versions were not as cumbersome as those she used to wear but nonetheless they were a hindrance when chores needed to be done. Ross though seemed to like her in these constraints, his hands often grazing her torso to feel the ribbing and texture through her dress. She smiled to herself as she remembered the encounter they had in this room, on this table after his return from his first session of Parliament. They were still trying to find a peaceful medium after both of their indiscretions when, after a night of Ross wrangling with friends, he found her idly folding wash and took her on this table. She felt her cheeks warm at the vision her mind’s eye created and moved quickly to finish her clean up so she could put the pie together in time for supper.

With her back to the door and her focus on avoiding making more of mess by pushing around the flour she didn’t hear him enter. In fact she hadn’t realized she was no longer alone until she felt his hands wrap around her waist.

“Judas!” she cried as she dropped the rag causing a dusting of flour to rise into the atmosphere.

Ross jumped back but whipped her around to face him.

“I’m sorry my love. I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said fighting laughter.

“What did you expect? I thought after all these years, your tomcat ways were behind you,” she teased, reminding him of the early days of their marriage.

“They are. But when faced with such a tempting creature as yourself….”

He didn’t finish his statement as his eyes were drawn to her lips. Bending her backwards slightly he kissed her, eliciting a soft moan. Instinctively, Demelza’s hands grasped the lapels of his coat, holding on as though if she let go she’d fall. Ross’s own hands held her fast, his fingers sliding up her middle until his thumbs skimmed under her breast when he stopped. He pulled away from Demelza, who tried to catch her breath as he stared at her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You feel different.”

“What?”

Clearly confused, Demelza released her grip on her husband and waited for an explanation.

“Here,” he said as his hands circled her again, his hands tracing each rib as if searching for something.

“Ross, what are you talking about?”

“It’s just that I like it when….you know?”

“No I don’t know. You’re speaking in riddles.”

“Are you without a corset?”

His face took on a sheepish look as he continued to eye her body.

“Yes. Why does that concern you? I was working in the orchard today and it’s much easier to manage without feeling as though I’m trussed like a Christmas goose.”

She tilted her head, trying to determine why her undergarments were a topic of conversation. 

“I was just wondering if that is proper. I mean suppose we had visitors. I don’t think I would like my wife to be visibly unencumbered.”

Demelza couldn’t hold back a giggle at his thought process. Was he really upset that she was underdressed? 

“Ross, do you think I’m indecent?” she said. 

Her hands ran down her sides feeling her body as though by doing so she could see what others might see. Even without a corset, there were still multiple layers of fabric that would keep her modesty in check. Ross saw that his desire for his wife was misconstrued as disapproval. He moved to take her back into his arms and kissed her firmly.

“Far from it my love. It’s just that I’ve always found the feeling of your body, shaped by a corset to be quite…enticing. Especially as it accentuates some of your lovely assets.”

His voice was low, sending a shiver down her spine.

“Ross.”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as her eyes cast downwards. He lifted her chin to capture her lips again, sliding his mouth down her neck as he gently pushed her onto the table. Flour and apples were forgotten as she reclined back when she felt something wedge against her back.

“Wait,” she said, trying to reach behind her.

Ross was preoccupied with moving her to where he could reach the hem of her skirts. He tugged at them, his fingers working their way up her legs, past her stockings to her bare thigh.

“Ross!” she called, this time forcing him to pay attention to her.

“Have I hurt you?” he asked, concern written on his face.

She shook her head and rose up a little, finally able to reach behind her to grab the item causing her discomfort. With a jerk, she revealed his tricorn; it was no longer shaped to fit his head but rather took on the appearance of a flatten tart.

“Oh no,” she exclaimed. “I’m that sorry.”

Ross’s hand reappeared from under her dress as he stepped away to get a better look at his hat. Demelza held it up and he took it. After seeing that it was no longer wearable he tossed it aside and returned his wife to a prone position on the table.

“Why did you do that? I’m sure I could repair that for you?”

He shook his head, his one hand back to finding her flesh under her skirt while the other, caressed her easily touchable middle.

“No need my love. I think it’s time to toss that away and let it join your missing corset.”

She smiled at that as he leaned down to kiss her again.

“But Ross, they are both such a part of us. Just like this table that you seem to be insistent on using for things other than cooking or meals.”

Her voice was teasing which fired him up even more. He leaned over her, determined in his quest to satisfy this need.

“Why do you think I had it refinished Demelza? I wanted to make sure it suited all our needs?”

She raised her eyebrow and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Yes I can see that.”

He said nothing in response but took her then. The table acting as a support for their loving: strong, secure, with some scars of the past but still unbreakable. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had no intention of writing anything other than a new chapter of one of my WIP, but this one came to me after reading interviews with A&E and seeing that kitchen table over and over again.


End file.
